


Where is my Sammy?

by Niburu



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Ascention, Demonic Possession, Gods, M/M, Sleepwalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-12
Updated: 2013-11-25
Packaged: 2017-12-14 17:29:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/839491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Niburu/pseuds/Niburu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam starts sleepwalking at an early age, but soon it appears that it's not him that's moving around in his body.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First One Then the Other

**Author's Note:**

> I felt bad writing this. I feel bad posting this. I hate the ending that this is going to have.

Sam is just over 7 years old and already Dean can tell he's going to be a monster when he grows up. But like all things in the future, they can be made impossible with just the right events. Sammy begins sleepwalking at age 9 and both John and Dean poke fun at him for it, it's nothing they cant handle they think. Lock the doors, shut the windows so he can't escape, hows that an inconvenience? But one night when Dean wakes up to take a piss he sees his little brother walking around aimlessly in the motel room. He chuckles to himself and when he gets out of the bathroom Sam is back in bed again, sound asleep. Dean crawls in next to him and smiles, but is long gone when Sammy gets up again. 

It's Dean's birthday. He turned 16 and oh John is proud, his eldest is almost an adult now! John takes him to a bar and they leave Sam, who's fallen asleep. They take their keys and check the windows, making sure he doesn't just wonder off into the night before they get back. The door shuts and Sam's eyes open. He heads to the kitchen and stands there, stays there until John and Dean come back, and even longer when the two fall asleep until he finally moves again, this time to sit facing the wall. They leave the next morning and no one notices the scratches climbing the wall behind the curtains. 

Its only a few months later when Dean wakes up to Sammy whispering things to the wall. He doesn't quite catch what he says though and almost quickly Sam stops talking, stands up and looks at Dean. Its fucking creepy, watching Sam's eyes look at him but not comprehend that he's actually there. He leans back in the pillow away from Sam's eyes and for the first time in his life he's scared of Sam. His own little brother.

The next few times Sam does weird things when he sleepwalks, its John that watches him. He's getting a little spooked too, Dean can tell. The way they look at Sammy has changed just a little and Sam doesn't even know. Dean feels like shit about it but doesn't know his father has watched Sam the last few nights out of the corner of his eye, pretending to be asleep. John has seen weird things in his life, but this is topping his huge, freaky cake. Sam starts sleepwalking about an hour after the oldest two have gone to bed and stares at the wall for a good hour. Then he starts whispering nonsense, though John's starting to pick out words and occasionally a sentence or two with each passing night. He looks into books on sleepwalking and asks doctors from the different towns and cities they pass and they all tell him the same thing; it's natural and he shouldn't worry, but he does. This is John Winchester, monster Hunter. He knows somethings wrong but he can't figure it out.

Sam doesn't sleepwalk for a few months and everyone stops worrying. Sam had started to feel the tension in the air around them and was getting suspicious, but now everything seems back to normal. John still watches though, keeps his eye out for anything too weird. Not long after he drops his guard, Sam starts sleepwalking again. No one knows or even notices until John's hand brushes against something rough and dusty behind some curtains while he looks for the light switch. Claw marks snake a word throughout the wallpaper and drywall: MINE it reads. It sets the hairs on the back of his neck on fire. He grabs salt and water and forces Sam to drink it. Sam is scared out of his mind, thinks his dad has gone off the deep end but he does it anyway because its his dad, whats he supposed to do? Nothing happens and John is still beyond upset. Dean isn't sure he knows whats going on and isn't sure he even wants to know. Sammy doesn't understand anything and that's good so far. They haven't teased him about sleepwalking in so long he thought he'd stopped. That was the day Sam turned his attention a bit more outside his books. The day he looked around at the world and saw what his brother and dad saw. It was the day he grew up.

Years pass, so long that everyone seems to forget about Sammy and his sleepwalking, so long that John is gone and it's just Sam and Dean now. Dean's ears are more sensitive now then ever before so he hears it when Sam starts clawing at the wall and whispering things. Again his mind supplies for him, its happening again. His heart beats so loud he wonders if Sam can hear it But he keeps going with the scratching and whispering until he punches the wall, so hard the wall caves in around his fist. Dean is up so fast he almost knocks over his baby brother as he pulls him away from the wall and back to the bed. He has tears in his eyes and Sam is somehow still asleep. He fixes Sam's hand as best he can with his own shaking ones and sits down to watch his brother sleep. The next morning he asks why his fist is bandaged and Dean doesn't know what to say so he doesn't say anything. Sam pushes and pushes though until Dean breaks down and literally stops the Impala to look at him and says "Don't ask me again". It's almost a question and almost purely begging. Sam stops asking and Dean almost cry's again.

The very next night Sam gets up again, sleepwalking to the wall of the motel. Dean is still awake, hasn't slept a wink in fact and he knows what Sam is doing. He listens this time, trying to find a phrase or term in his brother's word salad that he can use to get help, but nothing. Sam gets back into the shared bed and wraps his arms around Dean who almost has a fucking heart attack because Sam's eyes are wide open and staring into his own. "Mine", he whispers before he drifts off. Dean doesn't sleep at all. He repeats everything Sam said to himself that night trying to find something, anything he can use to make Sam better because whatever is inside him isn't in the book or on the net, nowhere and it sure as hell isn't just sleepwalking. 

One more week passes before Dean finally breaks down. Sam is there at the wall picking away and whispering, saying things like "Only when he can" or "I can see potatoes", and Dean starts to cry. He's so quiet he wonders how the hell Sam even heard him enough to come over and comfort him. He uses the word comfort loosely. Sam is staring wide eyed and unseeing at the wall he left while he strokes Dean's hair. He hasn't felt so useless in his life.

When he wakes the next morning Sam is curled beside him and oh god does he look normal. They leave and head to whatever city had the best sounding lead and Dean starts to notice things about his last remaining family member. His steps look more labored, limbs slouching more than usual. Worst of all his eyes can go from perfectly aware to flat in seconds and Dean is so scared he calls Bobby the first chance he gets. Bobby has no clue either and can't even offer Dean a little bit of wisdom. He ends the call without saying goodbye and watches as Sam gets ready to sleep. The lead was a bust it turns out, but that's ok Dean thinks. More time to help his little brother. 

He gets obsessed to the point where even oblivious Sam can tell somethings up. Dean is researching every demon he can find, every creature he can think of but nothing comes up good enough to point to a particular thing. "Dude whats wrong with you? You've been crazy all week, going over all that demon stuff. What's up?" The last part he says carefully because Dean looks like he could snap at any point. He stops and takes a breath before looking at Sam, his little Sammy, the one he was supposed to protect. I'm failing, he thinks, I'm failing and Sam is gonna get taken away from me. Forever. The word echoes in his mind until Sam pushes a hand past his eyes, brings him back to the present. He acts on instinct, using the force of his upward lift from the chair to plant a fist squarely in Sam's beautiful face. He's out cold before he even hits Dean's arms as he catches him. He lays his little Sammy, who's not so little anymore, on the ground, fetches the rope, ties him to a chair and paints the circle above his head. He gets the book. Sits on the bed shaking. What the hell is he doing, he wonders, to his own flesh and blood? His little Sammy. 

With each passing breath Sam feels like he got hit in the face with a truck. Dean hits really damn hard sometimes he remembers, though really he shouldn't. Why the hell did Dean just punch him and why the hell is he bound to a chair? Looking through his eye that doesn't have a shiner, he spots Dean on the bed watching him. Maybe it's not Dean, he thinks. "Meg?" he asks hesitantly. He almost laughs because the thought that Sam thinks he's the demon makes almost no sense, but at least he's awake now. The chant goes on and on and no demons issue forth from Sam's body. He sits there and says nothing the entire time. Whatever is wrong with his older brother is scary, sure, but who knows what he might try to do after this and that thought scares him more. He makes a plan but before he can begin to figure out how he'll do it Dean collapses in tears on Sam's lap. Very rarely has he seen his brother cry and this is pure sobbing. Dean. Sobbing. The words make no sense to his brain at all and he figures if Dean is crying then something is really up. "Sorry, I'm so sorry Sammy", he says over and over again. He shakes so bad. Thoughts effectively scattered now, Sam asks Dean to let him go and sure enough he obeys. He almost falls when Dean hugs him, sinking down to his knees, still crying, fingers clawing into jeans and tears soaking them a darker blue. He puts his hands in Dean's hair, sits down beside him. He frowns but doesn't ask Dean why the hell he did all this, doesn't ask him to stop crying, just holds him. He figures after the childhood Dean tried to give him, after all the hand holding and training, its his turn to be the one to comfort his brother. 

They stay there a few days more and Sam watches ever so keenly as Dean moves around slowly. He doesn't know why Dean did any of that and he still knows he shouldn't ask just yet, but the questions plague him. Was his brother possessed? Or is he becoming unstable...


	2. When the stars go out, you don't look up, ok?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam is basically gone at this point

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you know what i love doing? Leaving a story and not finishing it. No lol I'm totally fucking with you. I totally spaced out about this. Time to finish itttttt

It had been weeks. Weeks of this god awful questioning of whether it was Dean going crazy or if it was himself. First there was the exorcism with Dean, then there was the days he'd been forgetting, and the shortening of his emotional range. He just didn't seem to care anymore and he couldn't even care about that! Whatever was going on seemed to be in the air around them. More than once Sam had jumped to his feet brandishing the first weapon he could get at, feeling something not right in the air around them, something black and twisted poking its head and fingers into their lives and Sam wanted it gone. The only feelings he was getting now was deep, protective rage because if he couldn't save himself, and he was sure of this now, then he would save Dean. 

 

Poor Dean... Sitting by the door at all times, constantly swallowing, shedding silent tears he just didn't understand or misplaced as anguish over Sammy. In reality, Sam had been spending his waking moments trying to figure out what caused shifts in attitude and feelings of unease and, of course, possession without a demon. Bobby wasn't picking up and they hadn't left the hotel in days. It was like Tuesday all over again only he couldn't leave the hotel instead of the day itself. It would scare him, he thought, if only he could feel a damn thing. He pondered the logistics of what a spell of this magnitude would cost a witch or even a god if he was going to be really honest with himself. He could think of nothing of use.

 

Finally that night Sam was taken for good. He just disappeared and Dean was finally able to get up and do something about it. Three days had passed since Sam had undergone Dean's failed exorcism. The horrible feelings of despair and anxiety were totally gone, and he was able to pick between the memories of being under lock down by whatever had taken Sam, and what came before. He was sure it was a spell of some kind, a witch getting revenge or some demon they hadn't heard about. He was so sure that when he exited the motel he would know what had happened to his brother with just a bit of research with Bobby's aid. What he wasn't prepared for was the lack of anything around him. Pure white surrounded him. No impala, no motel door, and still no Sam. The logical part of his hunter's mind was screaming witch, but the more practical part was whispering a very large and disturbing nothing. He was in nowhere land. He might have laughed if it wasn't such a horrible feeling to be nowhere at all, in both time and space and maybe that was what was actually happening around him. 

 

He screamed and screamed and the screams turned to threats and the threats finally to begging. As the last of his whispers died in his throat the lights went out and he was watching a 4 year old Sam make cereal. He should question it, but he didn't. He should speak out, but he didn't. There was no noise coming from where the shuffling of cereal grains should come from, no clink of the spoon or crunch from his eating. It was one of his memories he was sure, but he couldn't place it, didn't mind even after the blank nothing before this. 

 

He relished every moment of the voiceless scene and when it was gone it was replaced by another memory. Sam sticking his tongue out at a much younger version of himself. It escalated into a tickle fight and the warmth in his chest swelled, as he imagined Sam's childish squeals of delight, and the brushing of clothes on the motel floor. It was quickly too vivid and the reality of what was going on crashed far too quickly into Dean's addled mind, the fact that Sam was gone and that whatever was going on now was some horrible play on his memories. 

 

As fast as the other memories came along, this one was more recent and Dean remembered it well. A rush of embarrassment filled his cheeks with shame at the thought and he tried looking away, only to find his eyes glued towards the scene before him. He watched as a 21 year old Dean took Sam's virginity in the back of the Impala. He watched as a 17 year old Sam opened his mouth and he applied the sounds himself. He remembered that day like none other and he would give anything to forget it. Would you, he thought pathetically. Would you really? 

 

Dean looked away. The memory was fading out and being replaced again. It was something he wished he could control, wished he could go back to see Sam and whatever he was being possessed by to get a better understanding of how to get Sam back and get rid of that thing inside him. The guilt of taking Sam's virginity was replaced by crippling denial. Sam being stabbed to death and hearing his little breaths whisper out his name over and over. No, that didn't happen, and the sounds from the memory still weren't working anyway. Had Sam just whispered to him, or was he really and truly crazy now? The memories were blurry now, but still things he remembered very clearly about his brother. "Dean," it spoke beside him and it wasn't in Sam's voice. A voice that would make anyone's heart fail upon hearing it. Neither male nor female it came from behind Dean and he wasn't going to turn around to look at it, whatever it was. Death leaked through his memories and it was portrayed before him with a crippling feeling of hopelessness, worse than he'd felt when Sam had died. 

 

"He is with me now," it spoke again and Dean shifted his head just a little, just enough to see a faint outline of something monstrous and black behind him. It made his heart beat harder then he could remember. What was this thing, so horrible that it could hasten the heart of a fully grown, well trained hunter by speaking alone. The thought wasn't Dean's. It wasn't anything in this place. 

 

"What did you do to my brother," Dean whispered. The effort to speak was enormous, worse then any spell or telekinetic hold he had ever been under and the thing behind him spoke with as much indifference as before, "He has been chosen."

 

What the hell did that mean? he thought savagely. "For what," was the whispered response. It was no easier to speak, in fact he was surprised he was speaking at all, but this was Sam, his Sammy, and he had to get him back. That was rule number one.

 

The oppression felt closer; it /moved/. Something moved forward from the black outline, just visible in Dean's peripheral and it sank down on his shoulder. It felt heavy and warm, almost like a hand, but with more fingers. Much longer fingers. Dean shook just a bit as the hand was joined by another on the opposite shoulder. "Such a peculiar thing you are," it whispered, "Not many would be able to stand this close, let alone exist at all." 

 

Dean didn't know or cared about that. He couldn't see anything anymore, it was all black in his eyes and the hands were horrible weights on him, weighing down his soul with every moment. "Sam," a last whisper and he was gone, faded to the extreme and forced back into the stale air of the motel room. The presence was gone and in it's place was Sam. He was asleep on one of the twin beds and was completely naked. Dean's eyes closed a bit before his legs fell from beneath him and he was out before he hit the floor. 

 

Neither of them remembered the events of the last few days when they awoke. They figured they'd gotten too drunk and pissed off a prostitute who had slipped something in their drinks. That was the accepted story. Truth be told they didn't want to think about the black thing, the horrible dread that came with being near it. Dean remembered his walk along memory lane however and he kissed Sam the morning they woke. Sam blushed and told Dean to fuck off, and he did. It didn't happen for a while after that and the black thing with too many fingers watched on carefully. 

 

Not many could stand up to God without dying, let alone take from it what it did not grant, but here was living human proof of it's failure. No one would ever know of course, but it still hurt it's pride just a bit. Sam and Dean Winchester's epic love story indeed. Enough to trump even God's will, it seemed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can see I like making myself hurt inside

**Author's Note:**

> No really, it's going to have a bad ending, as in someone will die!!!! I LIKE KILLING PEOPLE OK, IT'S ANGSTY


End file.
